Poisoned By You
by Twitcher
Summary: It really is amazing how much love is like poison. Matt thought so anyway. MxM


_**Author's Note: **I'm finding these two fun to write with heheh. Anyway, I found this one difficult to write for some reason. I hope you enjoy it. And I saw the annoying mistake where the beginning of the story was in the disclaimer (I have no idea how that happened) so I have fixed it and apologise_

_**Disclaimer: **I only own a copy of the Death Note manga. I can hardly claim to own the characters._

* * *

It all starts when it gets under your skin, into your system. It sneaks in somehow, undetected until the symptoms start. Then after suffering without knowing what's happening to you, you can attempt to find the cure. But the probability of finding it is very low, especially if it's unfamiliar. Then you'll finally succumb to it and then that is that.

Matt groaned and rolled over, his legs tangled in the sheets, his hair tousled and sweaty.

It really is amazing how much love is like poison.

Matt thought so anyway. He'd spent his whole childhood being told that falling in love was wonderful. Now he found it was actually terrible, it was stealing his sleep and appetite, chipping at his sanity and getting to the point where it was causing him physical pain in his chest whenever he laid his eyes on the source.

Oh God, the source of it all…

Mello…

It was all Mello's fault Matt was feeling like this. Mello was the reason for him being unable to eat, to sleep, to _function_. Mello caused this pain, the fever and the jumble of feeling knotted in the gamer's chest. _It was all Mello's fault._

Or was it Matt's? Was he himself to blame? It was him who was lying there drenched in his own sweat from yet another twisted dream. Not Mello. Mello was probably asleep, completely, blissfully unaware of the turmoil raging within his friend. Or up to his eyeballs in work, attempting to beat Near. Maybe, just maybe he was wondering what Matt was up to. But sadly he was most likely to be indulging in the second of the possibilities.

Near… Mello's obsession with beating the quite, pale boy often spun slightly out of control. Matt often found himself hating Near, purely because he took up so much of Mello's time, even if it was just a lust for victory rather than lust for Near. But it still got under Matt's skin, reacting with the poison Mello had already unwittingly administered to his veins, causing a surge of jealousy and hate to well up inside the gamer.

Matt pulled himself into a sitting position, sighing as the sheets fell away from his fevered skin allowing a little cool air from the open air to caress him. He fingered the tattered remains of his shirt. He had ripped it from his chest while in the clutches of another nightmare.

The nightmares were terrible. He would dream that he had confessed to Mello and the blond would look at him with complete hatred. He would scream abuse and then begin to hit him with anything handy, telling Matt he wasn't good enough, only scum that should just go and die.

Or he would dream that Mello was leaving the orphanage without him, saying he didn't need to be dragged down by a moron like him.

The very worst was the dream where he would see Mello kissing, touching, licking and loving Near.

Each dream made Matt more and more sure that Mello didn't need him around, that all this that he was going through was for nothing and he would never get the reward. Mello wouldn't look twice at him, not like that. He'd just see the lazy gamer who made occasional wise cracks and didn't really do much.

He stared out of the window. He could see his own reflection there. Pale with dark shadows under his eyes. The lack of sleep he'd had lately was making look slightly like L. He was getting too thin. His ribs and hips were becoming very prominent. He hadn't really felt up to eating as of late. His eyes, free of the goggles were their usual stormy blue but they looked dead, no spark in them. His brown hair was limp and straggly. He liked to dye his hair. He'd dyed it red for a while and had dyed it green once but hadn't liked it much. He'd even dyed it neon blue for a laugh. But he didn't much feel like playing with his hair anymore.

He looked terrible. Mello was probably disgusted by him.

Mello was perfect. His hair was never out of place and always looked clean and silky. Matt always wanted to touch it. Even though he ate copious amounts of chocolate his skin and body didn't show it. He didn't work out much, but too much muscle never really appealed to Matt anyway. It was his eyes that really sucked Matt in though. Completely unfathomable, showing every emotion he possessed but not a single one of his thoughts. Of course, the leather that had begun appearing in Mello's wardrobe as he'd gotten older had pleased Matt. Mello could pull it off, making it look kind of sexy rather than wannabe like.

That was it. He needed a shower. A cold one.

The freezing water cascading over his head helped. It cleared his mind, as well as calming him down physically. After a few minutes he slowly increased the heat until the water stained his skin pink, almost burning him but not quite. He liked his shower. It had perfect pressure, but the temperature often required a little adjustment. Overall it was nice. When he turned fifteen he had been finally allowed a room with it's own bathroom. He loved it.

He eventually stumbled out of the shower, slightly weak around the knees and dizzy. Maybe having the water that hot had been a bad idea. He wrapped a vaguely clean towel around his hips and dripped his way back into his room. He sat on his bed and began wiping himself dry. Once he was done he slipped his jeans on but didn't reach for anything else. It was too much effort.

He heard his digital clock beep once softly as it did on the hour. He cast a glance at it. One in the morning. He'd closed his eyes at ten and awoken at twelve. Less sleep than last night and even then he'd had little. Each night he woke earlier and earlier. He wouldn't be making it back to unconsciousness tonight.

His room seemed to be pressing against him, making him feel trapped. So he got up and slipped into the hallway. It was pitch black and Matt hoped none of the younger children had left anything on the floor. Tripping over wouldn't be very helpful right now. He made his way down the hall, one hand pressed against the wall to ensure he didn't fall. When he reached the top of the stairs he carefully descended them, wondering why the Hell Roger didn't put some nightlights down here. What if kids needed to get down in the dark and fell?

In the hallway at the bottom of the stairs Matt could see a crack of light from under a door.

Mello's room.

Matt felt that poison flare up, making his heart thump in anticipation and his body temperature shoot up.

He had to do it. He had to see him, right now.

He made it to the door, took a deep breath and tapped lightly on the door.

"Hmm?"

Matt took this as an invitation to enter and turned the handle and stepped in.

Mello was lying in his bed, his hair tied back with an elastic band and a pair of glasses perched on his nose. He had a massive book opened on his lap and he was pretty far through it too. It wasn't a textbook, which surprised Matt. It was some sort of fantasy saga.

"Matt?" Mello seemed surprised. He reached up and tugged the elastic band from his hair and slipped the glasses off his nose.

Matt shrugged. "Yeah, I know it's late."

Mello frowned and after marking his page, shut the book and chucked it on the floor. "Is there a reason for you showing up?"

Matt looked down and watched as two drops of water slid off his hair and pattered to the floor. "Yeah."

"Your hair is all wet," Mello said, wrinkling his nose. "And what's the reason?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Mello just stared at him. "You're only half dressed you moron. If you're all wet too you're gonna get sick. Geez."

Matt stood there and said nothing. His sopping hair hung over his eyes. He didn't really know if the droplets rolling down his face were the water or tears. The pressure in his chest was killing him and breathing was hard.

Then a hand brushed the offending hair from his face. Then he felt a soft fabric wiping his face and another hand pulling him to the bed. An arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him to sit. Then that same fabric began fluffing through his hair, drying it off at least a little.

Mello threw the damp shirt aside and turned his friend to face him.

"Were you crying?"

Matt didn't say anything. His shoulders were shaking slightly.

"Matt? Are you?"

Then to Matt's astonishment Mello took him in his arms and held him there. Rough, loud, bossy, out-of-control Mello was holding someone and telling them that it was all okay. He wondered briefly if it was a dream. But then that smell of musk and chocolate that was so unique to the older boy could not just be conjured up by Matt's mind, nor could the feel of that silky hair brushing his face be merely imagination.

Matt sat there letting Mello to pull him into a lying position, pull the sheets over them and turn off the light.

They lay there, Matt sheltered in Mello's arms, in the dark. They didn't say anything but Matt could almost feel the poison pumping through his body, it was stronger than ever.

"You poisoned me," he said quietly.

Mello chuckled slightly. "Oh did I?"

Matt nodded and nestled his head into Mello's shoulder.

"Can I cure you too?" Mello whispered.

Matt hesitated. "I'm not sure. Maybe there isn't a cure."

Mello lifted Matt's face to his and carefully pressed his lips to Matt's.

Matt gasped. He could feel the poison withdrawing, leaving his body. The miserable ball of doubt and jealousy evaporated and was replaced with warmth unlike anything he had felt before. Months of being frozen on the inside and burning on the outside were finally over.

When Mello slowly pulled away, Matt saw nothing but relief on his face. Then those amazing eyes locked with his and Mello smiled slightly.

"Bet you didn't notice you'd poisoned me too."


End file.
